


Feathery touch

by GeoFender



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff, Mentions of alcohol, Mutual Pining, also references to later episode, and also the rescue arc, but you have to really pay attention, ep 25 missing moment, episode 26 was rough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25999012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeoFender/pseuds/GeoFender
Summary: Alcohol, being beaten to shit and leaving someone behind put things in perspective. Beau realized that, their last night in Hupperdook.Or the one fic I wrote to cope about Molly and I needed those to idiots to do something. But theyre so fucking awkward with each other.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Yasha, Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	Feathery touch

**Author's Note:**

> So, i'm new to the CR fandom and Beuyasha, I started watching the show during the lockdown and rn I'm around episode 63, but I started writing this piece around... episode 27, I think. And completed these days, bc my concentration is shit and I'm easily distracted.
> 
> Beta-reading byt the amazing @xLoveMx here on ao3, check her works!

It burned. And it hurted like a bitch. Beau knew pain of every kind but this time… well, she didn’t really know. It was different, as she pointed out at Fjord just a few hours ago. Maybe it was the Kiri thing, leaving the little Kenku girl with the Schusters affected her in a way she didn't expect to. Well, to be perfectly honest, she didn’t expect shit. She had learned not toover time, it was easier this way, to be ignored and be considered somewhat of a zero. It was freeing, not to plan and be… Beau. Not Miss Lionett or a town girl or someone who couldn’t really talk because they got food, a roof on her head a perfect family. _Perfect_ , perfect her ass. She snickered, as she gulped a big slug of her bitter ale like a glass of water. Maybe it wasn’t strong like the barkeep promised, but surely it didn’t taste like piss.   
  
The four silver pieces -now six- she payed weren’t thrown to the pigs, at least. And then… it hit her all at once, like one of those gut punch she knew well. A familiar buzz crept in, a dear friend that accompanied her since she started tasting any kind of hooch. It was more than welcome after a day like this, rough and hard and spilling blood, both theirs and of their enemies but… something was off.   
  
She scratched her undercut lightly, feeling the short hair on the back of her neck getting longer and wondering, as she wobbly stood up, if she could ask Yasha to trim them or clean it. A stupid grin appeared on her face as her mind setted the 6 ft-ish pale Barbarian. She had liked her almost instantly, it wasn’t that much of a secret to the rest of the Mighty Nein, with the exception of… Yasha, of course. The involved party, like some sort of a fucking cliché out of some sort of a romance novel. Or smut, like the ones they had purchased in Zadash at The Chastity Nook and Jester even dared to read out loud. Even to Kiri, a barely 4 year old Kenku girl.   
  
Well, Beau wasn’t a prude or something like that, but she preferred not having Kiri randomly quoting passages of the novel. Especially the saucy ones. She almost tripped with her hip on a still strangely sober Molly, who showed her a knowing grin and mumbled something that Beau didn’t hear.  
  
« What, fuckface? »  
  
She raised her voice, her question barely heard because of the background noise in the tavern. She laid a blue-wrapped hand on the rough surface of the table to still herself and barely held her gaze on the purple tiefling, almost quivering to get out of there. Blood-alike eyes set on her, serious for a brief moment, as he nursed a whiskey, twirling the brown liquid in the glass.   
  
« Nothing. I didn’t say a thing. Maybe you are hearing birdies singing from the beating you took in that prison. You look shitty. »  
  
He downed his liquor and mellifluously asked the tavern keeper for another round, the dwarf woman clearly blushing under her colorful makeup. For Ioune’s sake, that bastard was just a tease. And alcohol didn’t help the situation, at all. She scoffed, her bruised knuckles aching for the desire to hit him but no, she barely raised her right hand, wrapped in her usual cobalt and clean bandages, deciding instead to let the provocation slide. For once. Well, it could wait until the next morning.  
  
« Yasha? »  
  
Almost a whisper slipped from her chapped lips, a bit screeching against her tough persona she presented most of the times, her voice soft as she asked Molly about the fallen aasimar. The grin Mollymauk showed widened, a hint of knowing and understanding in his red pupil-less eyes, scanning the room, drunken humanoids of all sizes and colors. His eyes landed on Beau once more, gingerly waiting for something, a sign to answer or not.  
  
« Taverns are fun, especially brawls but some people can find them a bit overwhelming after a while. »  
  
The purple tiefling spoke in riddles, strangely to Beau’s ears, but she barely questioned the reason, scratching almost shyly her undercut and taking a quick glance around the tavern. Tavern brawls were indeed fun but after having your ass kicked? Eh, not so much. She clicked her tongue as loud as she could and exited, the cold air of that festive evening hitting her face, still warm from the alcohol in her system and the hits taken in the city prison.  
  
Stars could be barely seen, sparse and covered by grayish clouds, but this wasn’t the kind of situation where you could ask someone to watch the stars with you. She was that kind of girl, but she was pretty sure Yasha was not. She must have been sick by them at some point because of how much she had seen them back in Xhorhas. Or, at least, that’s what Beau thought, she didn’t tell her -them, she corrected herself- much about herself. Very little, in fact.   
  
She sighed, shivering and trying to warm her arms with the little protection the Cobalt Soul’s robe offered her, wrapping it around her midriff. Okay, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to follow Yasha thanks to Molly’s vague indications but her gut told her otherwise, or maybe it was the lust that seemed to be with her at all times. To be fair, being attracted to the Barbarian was quite easy, with the hint of a heart of gold that peaked through the bulging muscles that could break anyone, especially her, like a stick.   
  
Approaching steps caught her attention, her piercing blue eyes now set on a tall, brooding figure, their pale face lit by the even paler moonlight, teal and purple eyes shone, clearly belonging to Yasha. The monk held her breath, as if she had forgotten how to breathe in her presence. _Smooth my ass_ , she thought.   
  
« Loud noises, am I right, uh? »   
  
She croaked trying to set up some sort of conversation. As if she was some sort of awkward teenager, new at talking to women, preferring admiring them from afar. She played and fiddled with the cobalt and aquamarine sash tied to the waist of her trousers, the fabric soft and failing to keep her somewhat focused on her task. She was sure Yasha mumbled something in response, but she didn’t manage to make out what, to be exact.  
  
« Beau. Yeah, I just… I'm not still used to it, I guess. And cramped. What are… what are you doing here? There isn’t some sort of drinking contest this evening? »  
  
A fairly strong Xhorhasian accent slipped from Yasha, maybe because of some tankard the barbarian downed at her solitary table. It was clearly a lie, no drinking contest was announced at the inn they spent the night in, not one she recalled of. Not that it mattered though, she was pretty hammered after the long day and the drinking itself.  
  
« Needed some fresh air. ‘t was hot in here. »  
  
Yasha nodded in understanding as she stepped more into the light her stance relaxed even though her greatsword was strapped to her back. Beau stood, starstruck, hating herself because she wasn’t even capable to do small talk, due to being so tongue tied. The barbarian looked at her, a hint of softness in her different colored eyes, almost understanding.  
  
« Yeah, it’s… a lot. »  
  
She caught a glimpse of her irises fixed on the starry sky, her mind far from here, far from Hupperdook, maybe way back in the past. Beau stifled a sneeze, still shivering because of the breeze that seemed to have picked up. She really had to tough up a little.  
  
« I think there’s still that kid who sells flower.s Wanna track her down? If you still like them. »  
  
Surprise was painted on Yasha’s usually stoic and intimidating features, making her look even younger than she was. Not that Beau knew the barbarian’s age, but she couldn't be much older than the ex criminal. Wasn’t really a problem, though. She seemed to ave warmed up a little at the proposal, even if the possibility of really finding that girl was very scarce. She was barely four or five years old, she surely wasn’t around this late, with drunken dwarven and gnomish folk out on the streets. But Beau she would have done everything to be around Yasha.   
  
« Yeah, I guess… taking a stroll isn’t such a bad idea. Lead the way Beau, I don’t remember where she was. And I'm a bit… drunk. I’ve lost cont how many tankards of ale I drank. »  
  
Again, it wasn’t entirely true, Yasha could handle her liquor very well for her size, she was as tipsy as Beau but a stroll under that friendly sky and even more favorable moon would certainly be nice. They stumbled, very little words between them, taking unmemorable alleys, their hands grazing each other, not really touching. They then reached where they had met the flower girl and her father, only to find dwarfs, drunk and jittery, still in their work clothes.   
  
« S’rry, I swear she was right there. Guess she’s home sleeping, kids gotta sleep a lot. »  
  
Beau said, her legs dangling from the top of a stone bench she insisted to sit down upon, a hint of sadness in her voice, with it now her turn to be distant, anywhere but there. She felt something warm, on her shoulders and the skin of her arms, dampening the icy cold grasp of the air that night. Her head shot up, confusion in her blue eyes as she stared at the Xhorhasian, bare and muscly shoulders clearly missing something. She wasn’t less towering, though. She just didn’t sport her usual broody and threatening demeanor.  
  
« I thought you didn’t take off your shawl. Only seen you without it in that bathhouse. In Zadash. »  
  
It wasn’t that much of a protest, as she let the shawl cover what it could, even the midriff that was usually always exposed with pride. She didn’t realize until now that the dark blue fur was as big as a standard blanket, at least on her. Maybe because Yasha was the biggest among all of the Mighty Nein, in height and thickness, and the monk was made of wiry and lite muscle, relying on swiftness and precision instead of blunt and direct force.  
  
« Yeah yeah yeah, but you were freezing and I’m used to harsher weather. I know of your high thread count but… winter is coming. »  
  
And, with that, she sat beside Beau, instinctively adjusting the fur on her, wrapping it better around the monk’s frame, another way of protecting her to shield her from the cold. Beau scoffed, her cheeks darkened a bit, along the tips of her ears, the gesture deemed too nice for a person like her. She still shifted towards Yasha, their shoulders touching even with the warm and thick shawl.  
  
« Winter is coming. Sounds like some shit a bard would say to earn a couple of silvers more. But yeah, I guess the weather is colder this time of the year. »  
  
She scoffed, her head leaning on Yasha’s shoulder, the warmth and the sense of protection lulling her and lowering her defenses, even a little bit. The barbarian watched over her, the greatsword’s blade scratching the stone on which they were seating, the noise going unnoticed by the pair.   
  
« Yeah, I guess… I guess we should return to the inn. Or the tavern, to collect Molly and the rest of the group. I don’t… know spells like Jester and Caleb that can send messages. »  
  
The barbarian almost whispered, only her voice in the near vicinity, the drunken antics of various citizens far from them. Beau didn’t respond and, worried, Yasha lowered her gaze, her calloused hand gently caressing the monk’s cheek, checking if she had passed out . She could have always bridal style carried her, or thrown her over her shoulder like the one time she carried her to her seat at the circus but she didn’t want to impose. And her blade got in the way. A lot.  
  
« Hot. »  
  
Beau instantly said.  
  
« Well, your hands are. And also all of you, of course. You’re very hot, Yasha. »  
  
There was a hint of uncertainty in Beau’s voice, usually cocky, her facade showing small and nearly invisible cracks. In the few weeks they had traveled together, months overall, she hadn’t shared much with the Mighty Nein. Well, she had, but was it really sharing if she told stuff with so much bravado that her emotion, her feeling didn’t transpire at all? She didn’t really like to be vulnerable, it was a shitty thing, something sh couldn’t resolve with her fists or her staff.  
  
Yasha didn’t respond, a smile on her pale lips as she heard Beau stumbling and babbling, caressing her left cheekbone, gently, a feathery touch in contrast to the calluses on her hands from wielding a sword she could ever remember. It was her turn to stop breathing as she stared at Beau’s almost inhuman blue eyes. She exhaled, warm breath on cold skin, her mind screaming to kiss Beau, to end that agony. But something, something held her back. Feelings, dreams of shackles binding her. She backed away, flinching, the face of a woman who had seen a ghost.  
  
« And you are very cold, Beau. And freezing. let’s… return to the inn, you need to warm up. Fevers are… a bitch. »

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at @geofenderwrites on Tumblr, I'd love to talk and take prompts. Even if I'm slow.


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